


Just Breathe

by MerchantofDeath (Trammel)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Not Underage, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6701617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trammel/pseuds/MerchantofDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even before Afghanistan, Tony had trouble catching his breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> If you can handle the tags - ALL HURT, NO COMFORT here, beware, you can consider this a memory of Tony's from my story Dark Memories. I didn't link them together, and I've posted this under a different pseud because it's very different from my usual stuff and I realize some people might not want to read it. 
> 
> It's been sitting there on my computer, and I finally forced myself to post it. Edited to fix typos.

The press conference went by in a flash, and Tony was riding high and enjoying the attention, obviously. He had learned to do this long ago, give the press a public face that hid everything underneath.

And then came the celebrating. The Stark heir finally at the helm of the company. Everybody wanted to buy him a drink. Tony knew that tomorrow they would all be betting on how long it would take him to fail spectacularly, but today they were at least pretending to be on his side.

He couldn't keep track of how many bars they had hit, how many girls he had kissed; he was just mellow, enjoying the buzz he had going.

 So he wasn't on guard, almost didn't notice as Obie steered Tony into his limo. Tony thought maybe they'd go to another bar, go get some girls. Obie knew where to get the high-class ones, the ones that wouldn't leak any pics to the press.

Tony closed his eyes, resting his head back against the soft leather seat. He must have drifted a bit, because when he opened them and tried to focus, he saw that they were outside Obie's building. There were throngs of press outside, just waiting for them.

"You've had a long day. Come inside and have another drink," Obie said. He was smiling, but his eyes were hungry.

Tony knew he should say no, knew he should speak, but he seemed to have lost his voice. Then the driver was opening Tony's door and Obie was throwing his arm around Tony, trapping him.

Tony felt that large body against his and the breath left his body. Obie manoeuvred them through the sea of reporters, Tony blinking at the flashing cameras.

"Come on guys," Obie said to them. "We'll give you more details tomorrow. Now it's time to celebrate the company being headed by a Stark again." Obie pulled the younger man into the lobby of the building and the doors closed on the noise and shouted questions.

"Good job today. You're finally acting like a man."

They were heading to the elevator, now Obie had an iron grip on Tony's arm. Tony somehow found his voice, then tried to infuse it more confidence and snark than he was feeling. "It's my birthright, isn't it."

Obie laughed as they entered the elevator and, strangely, reached out with his other hand to ruffle Tony's hair as he used to a decade ago, before his touches became something else.

Then, before Tony really understood what was happening, they were in Obie's penthouse and Tony realized he was alone with Obie. He didn't want to be anywhere alone with Obie.

He pulled his arm from Obie's grip and turned toward him.

"I'm gonna - I'm gonna go-"

He started toward the door, a little shakily, but Obie grabbed his arm again and pushed him down on the couch. Tony crawled back, trying to get away from the larger man, but Obie moved close to him, too close, a predatory look in his eyes.

 Obie's right hand came down on Tony's thigh. Tony froze, fear cutting through his drunken haze a bit. _No. He wouldn't. Not here. Not now…_

He thought that was all over. Obie hadn't tried that in years.

"No-" Tony croaked. It came out as a garbled whisper. _Fuck! Be stronger than that!_ A voice in his head told him. His fucking father's voice, probably.

But then Obie's other hand landed on the back of Tony's neck. That huge hand rubbing and squeezing his skin. And Tony couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The hand on his thigh moved upwards.

"You just screwed me over today, my boy. I think you owe me something." Obie's breath was hot against his neck.

The hand squeezed him roughly. Tony told himself he should be fighting, yelling, defending himself, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed. He literally could not make himself move.

_Fight him. You're not a kid anymore!_

But the moment Obie touched him, he felt like he was a kid again. He couldn't move, couldn't think.

Obie squeezed his cock through the pants of Tony's bespoke suit. Made especially for this day, this day that he would take his place as an adult, not as a kid - a helpless kid...

"No!" Tony pushed Obie away and started to get up, but something slammed into his face and he tumbled to the floor. His cheek was burning and his head spinning. It took a moment for Tony to realize that Obie had slapped him, putting all his strength behind it. _Fuck_.

_Get up! Get out of here!_

He struggled to his feet and dashed for the door as best he could on unsteady legs, but Obie was quick. He closed his hand around Tony's arm and spun him, slamming him back against the wall. Tony's head hit the wall with a thunk. He tried to put up his hands to protect himself, but immediately Obie pressed his right forearm against Tony's throat, cutting off almost all his air.

Tony finally found his strength, and tried to kick and struggle for all he was worth, but Obie thrust his arm harder against his throat. He couldn't breathe! He grabbed at Obie's arm, trying to move it, but it was no use.

"You don't tell me what to do, boy," came Obie's angry voice. "You _belong_ to me!"

Obie towered over him, pressing Tony against the wall.

At those words Tony felt himself slipping away. Sometimes he would disappear when Obie touched him. He didn't know where he went, but it was like he would wake up - come back to his body - and Obie was on him, forcing him, hurting him.

Even as it was happening, it was happening in pieces, in flashes with blank spaces in between. It was his brain doing him a favor, like now.

.... Obie's hand was at his throat and Tony was - was on his knees. Those hands, always reeking of cigar smoke, at the back of his head, pulling at his hair…

"Come on, you remember what you're good for…"

Obie had taught him how to suck him, just right. When he forced Tony to his knees he praised him endlessly, and Tony focused on that voice, the approval in that voice, to ignore the things he was doing, the things that Obie taught him to do _so well._

Now that heavy cock was thrust into his mouth, the larger man holding onto his head, not letting him get away. Tony pushed at Obie's legs but he was trapped against the wall. He couldn't breathe-couldn't breathe…

…. Obie was pushing him into the bedroom, face down on the bed. Tony didn't even try to crawl away. He just closed his eyes and grabbed tightly to the blankets, his tears wetting the wrinkled sheets his face was pressed against.

He'd said no, but now he stopped saying anything. He knew by now that Obie would do what he wanted no matter what Tony did or said. He wished he could stop himself from crying. Cuz he realized by now that Obie got off on his tears…

Tony heard a drawer opening, something landing on the bed. Then those hands were back on him. Tony found some fight left in him and twisted, trying to get away.

Obie's fist connected with his stomach, and knocked the breath out of him. As Tony struggled to breathe, fought against the pain, Obie flipped him back on his stomach, straddling him to keep him from moving. Tony tried to moan, to call out, but he still couldn't breathe, he couldn't, and Obie's weight was crushing him, not allowing his lungs to open.

"Stop!" he growled into Tony's ear. "I'm not in the mood for this today."

Tony was trapped, with that heavy body on top of him. Darkness began to encroach on his vision, but then, finally, Obie moved off of him. Tony could only gasp and concentrate on getting that precious air into his lungs. He couldn't do anything as he heard Obie moving behind him and felt Obie's hands at his belt.

Hands grabbed at Tony's ass, fingers digging into his skin.

"Oh, I've missed you, Tony."

…. Tony jerked at the feeling of a hot hand on his ass. His pants and boxers were gone, and slicked fingers were pushing at his hole….

"Come on. Relax. You know I don't wanna hurt you, my boy."

Tony's whole body shuddered and his brain didn't even attempt to cut through all the layers of lies in that statement.

"You remember how good it was between us."

No, Tony didn't want this. He didn't. But he'd never seen Obie so angry, so violent. He didn't know if he would make it out of this room. If he gave Obie what he wanted, maybe he could get through this….

….Obie was draped over him, his fingers deep inside of Tony. At first it hurt, but now Obie was hitting a spot that made Tony gasp and cry out ( _like the slut he was, Obie said)._ Tony didn't want it to feel good. He just wanted it all to stop. All of this. He didn't want this. He _didn't._

"Oh, you're so good. So good, Tony" Obie breathed into his ear, his other hand reaching around to stroke Tony's  hard dick ( _which meant Tony liked this, he_ wanted _it, right?_ That's what Obie always told him, since - this started.  He couldn't really remember a time when Obie's hands weren't on him) _._ Tony just cried harder, because Obie was right, that hand felt good. He thrust against Obie's hand, just moaning and crying like a baby.

"I'll show you how good it is."

So he was thrusting back on Obie's hand, trying to be "good", so that other hand wouldn't close harder around his throat. So that hand would let him breathe. Obie was growling in his ear."There you go. You're so good, you're such a good little slut for me, Tony." Tony gasped out a sob at that, and he hated himself for it, because he knew that that's what Obie wanted. He wanted Tony broken and begging and hurt.

He couldn't help the moan that escaped him as Obie's fingers hit that spot inside him, sending heat through his core…

….He felt Obie's fingers leave him and Obie's hands grabbed at Tony's hips, pulling him up onto his knees. No. No no no no no-….He felt slick, and warmth, and then Obie was pressing into him. Thrusting inside him. Tony let out a moan of pain and fear. He couldn't help it. He couldn't stop himself.

Obie was pushing into him, crushing him inside and out, one hand on Tony's hip and the other on his throat. Pushing his way into Tony's body, taking everything, Tony just shaking and crying, his head resting on his hands. The stretch kept going until he felt the fabric of Obie's slacks against the back of his thighs.

Tony was shaking, just trying to get air into his lungs. Just trying to breathe. Obie stilled a moment, his hot breath on the back of Tony's neck and one hand on Tony's hip, while the other hand moved to Tony's dick again…

…. then Obie was crying out and kissing at Tony's neck, his hands bruising Tony's hips, and hurting him inside… Completely inside him, and it hurt, and it also sent unwanted warmth through Tony - god no. Tony closed his eyes trying to block it all out and he couldn't. He couldn't block out that horrible stretch and Obie's weight on him and those hands…-

"You may own the world but I own you, boy."

 

_I own you._

Breathe, Tony told himself, through his tears. Just breathe.


End file.
